Stepping Away from the Edge of Oblivion
by ODST1
Summary: Throwing himself at Thanos one last time, the last line between victory and the loss of half the universe, Captain America tries a desperate tactic; pulling the infinity gauntlet apart piece by piece. Attempting to pry apart such a device, however, has unintended results. Infinity War One-shot


Steve Rogers, exhaustion telling him to stop, telling him to pause, refused to back down. He could never back down in the face of a bully, especially not one from outer space.

When he saw Thanos, he could see every man who'd beaten him up, every villain he'd faced, every monster he'd defeated, every single being that thought they knew better because they happened to have a little bit of power. He saw the Nazis, he saw the street toughs, he saw every arrogant thug.

The rest of the Avengers were nearly incapacitated. There was no one between the advancing monster and genocide. He couldn't back down, not as long as there was a single breath left in his body.

He charged at Thanos yet again, screaming with rage and anguish. He slid under the alien's right arm, and dove up into his stomach. Rogers grabbed Thanos' left arm when it came down to grab him.

The gauntlet that had caused so much trouble, the one that could destroy his world, was right there, and he couldn't do anything. He couldn't get it off.

Rogers roared, and tried to break the device while it was on his hand.

Time seemed to slow down for him, as he watched Thanos' almost puzzled expression behind the gauntlet.

Rogers had an idea. If he couldn't get the gauntlet off, maybe he could get the stones.

He reached for the one on Thanos' thumb, he didn't know which it was but it would have to do _something_ …

Thanos didn't seem concerned. Until the stone shifted.

" _Get on with it already! Hey, just start the cartoons!" An obnoxious man in front of him shouted._

 _Rogers blinked. It was dark around him. A harsh white light was cast in front of him. No, not a lamp, a projection light. It was displaying a newsreel, from the front lines._

 _All around him, drenching everything was the disgusting smell of cigarettes. He sat in an uncomfortable movie theater chair._

 _He was in some old movie theater._

 _Why was someone smoking in here? It was a non-smoking area, wasn't it? He hoped a theater employee would come along soon and shoo them out._

 _He shook his head, feeling odd as a headache came on._

" _Hey, you wanna shut up?" he snapped to the obnoxious man, rubbing his temples. The snap was odd, familiar. He thought it was because of the migraine, but he felt like this man had been bothering him for a while. Rogers glanced around and noted others staring at the man. He must have been bothering_ everyone _._

 _The obnoxious fellow looked back. In the dim light, he saw Rogers, grinned, and stood up._

 _How odd. Rogers must've been in a small seat, this purely average-height man- little more than a boy- towered over him._

 _The grin continued, eying Rogers with a confrontational expression, "Let's take this outside."_

 _Rogers was taken aback. Really? This kid was taking him on?_

 _His heart rate increased slightly. He felt a tightness in his chest. Painful, almost overpowering._

What the-? _He thought, and looked down._

 _A scrawny little man. Perhaps 5'7. Short and lanky. The "90-pound asthmatic". That was what Colonel Phillips had described him as at the best of times. Heart trouble, high blood pressure, easy fatigability._

" _...Together with Allied forces, we'll face any threat, no matter the size!" said the announcer on the newsreel, as the kid loomed in Rogers' vision._

 _What had happened? Where was he?_

 _The boy jerked his head toward the nearby street exit._

 _Rogers' face remained unchanging, but he stood up and went toward the door._

 _Mistake. He let the kid follow him. His training should have corrected that._

 _The instant they stepped out into the alleyway, the boy hit Rogers, knocking him into a bunch of trash cans._

 _Steel, aluminum(maybe), no plastics. The refuse he saw out of the corner of his eye was made of cardboard, fabrics, or paper. There were no other synthetic fibers._

 _Rogers got back to his feet, prepared to fall into a hand-to-hand combat posture, as he'd been taught 80 years ago. Or was days from now?_

Whoops. _His body wasn't responding the right way. He wasn't moving his normal body, he was moving his old scrawny form._

 _Time didn't slow down the way it usually did for him either. As evidenced by the fact that his face was now sore and he was back amongst the garbage cans. His visual perception had been reduced to that of a normal human._

 _Well, that ruled out a hallucination. Didn't rule out a dream state, though, or some sort of reality warp by Thanos. He could see the streets of old Brooklyn behind the boy. Really, whoever was doing this had done a great job._

 _Rogers reached for a garbage can lid and held it in one hand as a shield, turning around to try and swing a right hook at the kid._

 _The boy made an "oof" sound, somewhat surprised, and then pulled the shield away, pushing Rogers back to the ground._

 _Rogers got back to his feet, raising his fists._

" _You just don't know when to give up, do ya?" the kid said in a Brooklyn accent. It was accurate. Had all the right tics. The accents of the 21st century were missing._

" _I can do this all day." Rogers replied, somewhat winded. Or a lot winded. If whoever was doing this was doing what he expected them to, he had to change tactics._

 _He swung low, a simple a move as possible with his limited frame and using his small size to his advantage. He barreled into the bigger man, and planted his feet to push upward._

 _Or he would've. He forgot his dress shoes. They slid on the slick surface of the alleyway, and his legs went backward._

 _The boy pulled him up, and punched Rogers to the ground. He smacked into a trash can on the way down._

 _Rogers was dazed, shaking his head trying to clear it. Last time the kid had gotten in an extra hit, so he had more fight in him. Not that much, though._

" _Hey!" A voice called out. Just as he remembered._

" _Pick on someone your own size." the voice growled, and there was the sound of someone being dragged. Stumbling steps._

 _The stumbling stopped, and, with a grunt, the kid turned about to try and hit the interfering party. The sound of a punch, a groan, and a kick._

 _At least Rogers' special ops training wasn't reliant on his physical prowess. His mind was as sharp as ever in this...whatever it was._

 _Rogers got to his feet, breathing hard. He wished he had an inhaler._

" _Sometimes I think you_ like _getting punched." the third party said._

 _Rogers glanced up. There was Sergeant Bucky Barnes, dressed in a US Army uniform bearing the insignia of the 107th Infantry Regiment. He had both arms, and wore that slightly-annoyed-slightly-amused-"not this again" expression he always seemed to wear in the old days. Or was it_ these _days?_

 _Ignoring or not noticing Rogers' expression, Bucky knelt down and picked up a thick paper packet. It had fallen out of Rogers' jacket._

" _How many times is this?" he asked, somewhat admonishing._

 _Bucky took a moment to read the form, "Oh, you're from Paramus now? You know it's illegal to lie on your enlistment form. Seriously, Jersey?"_

 _He looked (slightly) up at Rogers, who was staring at him._

" _Steve, you alright? You hit your head again?"_

 _Rogers stepped forward and embraced him, tightly. More than Bucky could ever remember._

 _Bucky loosely hugged him back, surprised, "Steve, what's the matter? Did you get yourself hurt?"_

 _Steve released him, then touched his right arm, "That's made of skin."_

 _Bucky looked at him, and chuckled a little nervously, "Steve, pal, I won't judge you, but you gotta tell me if you hit your head."_

 _Rogers laughed, "No, no concussion this time. And you still have both arms!"_

" _Uh...yeah?"_

 _Steve grinned, "Bucky, what's today's date?"_

" _June 15th."_

" _The year."_

 _Bucky's mouth was slightly open, "...1943?"_

 _Rogers snorted with laughter, "Bucky...has anyone landed on the moon?"_

" _No..." Bucky reached out, looking for any sign of bruising on his friend's skull._

 _Rogers laughed again, "Do you know what_ Star Wars _is?"_

" _No, Steve, what's going on?"_

" _I don't know!" Rogers laughed, "One minute I'm taking on an alien Hitler from outer space, next thing I know I've gone back in time eighty years."_

 _Bucky rubbed his face, "Steve, I told you to stop getting reefer from that dealer down the street-"_

" _Buck, I'm not high or drunk. I don't think. I don't actually remember what I was doing all morning!"_

 _Bucky chuckled a little again, "Okay...okay, Steve, let's go and find a doctor and you can tell me all about it."_

 _Rogers shook his head, "No, Bucky, I'm fine! I'm better than fine! Everything's going to be okay now."_

 _Bucky looked Rogers up and down, noting the filth covering his suit, "Really."_

" _Yes! Bucky, I'm from the future."_

 _Bucky rubbed his face again, "Steve..."_

 _Rogers grimaced, "Give me a second...you're about to tell me you're going to ship out to England. This is your last night here, and you've set up a double date at the Stark Expo, and you were going to say you're going to have to get me cleaned up."_

 _Bucky stared at Rogers, "How did you know that?"_

" _I'm from the future, I said. This is excellent. I can stop everything! I can fix everything! Bucky, we need to get to that expo. I've gotta lie on an enlistment form again, get accepted into a super soldier program, get superpowers, and win the war."_

 _Bucky blinked rapidly, a skeptical eyebrow raised, "Steve. How many times has it been? Who are you going to go as, Steve from Ohio? They'll-"_

" _...Catch me or worse take me, I know, I know, that's what I'm counting on!" Rogers insisted, "I know they'll take me at the expo, though. Trust me!"_

" _You know I get nervous when you say that and you have that look in your eyes."_

 _Rogers patted Bucky on the shoulder, and with some effort put an arm around him, "C'mon, let's go. You've got those girls to take dancing, and I've got a doctor to meet."_

" _Steve-"_

 _Bucky's protests were cut off as Rogers started tugging him along._

 _Bucky spent quite a lot of time on the journey to the expo either staring at Rogers or rubbing his face. His friend was like a different person, acting so strangely. He was constantly looking around at everything, smiling or frowning depending on what he saw. It wasn't as if everything was unfamiliar, it was more like nostalgia._

 _Then there was the look he gave Bucky. When Rogers thought he wasn't looking, he would give him this odd expression, some sort of sad look, mixed with relief._

 _Even with Rogers acting weird, Bucky's plans went fairly well. They met up with the double date at the expo, and Rogers again confused him. He actually spoke to his date, and somewhat coherently!_

 _The date wasn't too interested in him, it seemed, but she did at least enjoy talking to Rogers. There was something about the way he spoke to her that was unusual. The fact that he managed any words was surprising though._

 _They saw Stark show off the Stark Gravitic Reversion technology, and Rogers kept checking his watch the whole time._

 _He did pay attention at one point to grin a little when Stark said "a few short years" for the technology to appear on the market._

" _Yeah, it'll never catch on. The CAA and FAA will think it's too much of a headache."_

 _At a certain point, Bucky took his eye off Rogers for one second, just the briefest instant. And he was gone._

 _Bucky sighed, knowing exactly how Rogers acted when he was intoxicated or whatever he was. Probably going to go pick a fight with some street tough picking on-_

 _Wait, that was how he was all the time. What would he be doing now?_

 _Bucky caught sight of a recruitment office at the end of the plaza. He sighed heavily, told his date where to wait for him, and quick-marched toward the small building._

 _He found Rogers standing just inside the building, practically waiting for him._

" _Steve-"_

" _Hey Bucky, if you had a chance to do something over, like meet someone who would change everything for you, how would you do it?"_

" _Are we still on the time travel?"_

 _Rogers made an odd motion with his hand, palm down and waggling it from side to side, "Sort of. Yes."_

 _He looked off into the distance for a moment, "I remember...he was in here when we were…"_

 _Rogers looked at Bucky, "Okay, say you just spotted me going to enlist-"_

" _I did."_

" _What's the lecture you're going to give me?"_

" _I wasn't gonna-!" Bucky shook his head, "Steve, is this some kind of trick?"_

" _No trick. I know you still don't believe me," he looked down the hall, focusing on someone Bucky couldn't see, "Look, pretend I never said anything about time travel or whatever, just tell me what you were going to tell me. Something about war not being a back alley."_

" _Yes! I mean-It's not! Steve, you can't keep doing this! Find some other way to fight-"_

" _I won't sit in a factory, Buck. There are men and women laying down their lives. I got no right to do any less than them. That's what you don't understand, this isn't about me!" Rogers looked down the hall, and pointed to Bucky as if he were cueing him for lines in a play._

 _Bucky shook his head slightly, "Right. Cause you got nothing to prove. Is that what this is all about?"_

 _His date called out to him from outside the enlistment center, and Bucky glanced back, answering in the affirmative. "Look, Steve, don't do anything stupid. I can't babysit you until you sober up."_

 _Rogers nodded, with a small smile and that hint of sadness in his eyes. He looked down the hall, and nodded, "Great. Thanks Buck."_

 _He hugged him again, and Bucky hugged him back, this time expecting it, "Steve, are you upset that I'm leaving? Is that it?"_

 _Rogers smiled, "See you in October, Buck. Remember that. I_ will _see you. In Austria."_

 _He walked off, leaving Bucky to stare befuddled after him._

 _Rogers could see Doctor Erskine at the end of the hall. He brushed his way through the crowd, unused to having to dodge through instead of push through, and tapped the older gentleman on the shoulder._

 _The German doctor turned around, and his eyes widened. "Yes?"_

 _Rogers smiled, laughing a little once again. What could he say?_

 _Erskine's eyes dodged around, looking for something. "Yes?" His voice was nervous._

 _Rogers chuckled, "Oh, Doctor Erskine, I'm not a spy. I-sorry, can have a moment of your time?"_

 _Erskine looked toward an MP nearby. The soldier took notice, and subtly began to make his way over._

" _For what purpose? How do you know my name?"_

 _Rogers winced, "I...lucky guess. I just need to talk to you for a second. You can have the MP stand by. You were planning on talking to me anyway, so why not hurry things along?"_

 _Erskine was surprised, "How did you-"_

" _That doesn't matter for now. Can we talk?"_

" _Ah...certainly. You are very perceptive, are you not?"_

 _Rogers grinned, "I suppose I am."_

 _He could fix everything. He could make sure Bucky kept his arm, and stayed out of Hydra hands. He could stop Schmitt from ever building his jet bomber, he could prevent the Battle of the Bulge. The Battle off Samar._

 _A word to Stark could keep the U-2 on the ground in 1960, and warm relations with the Soviet Union._

 _The Cuban Missile Crisis might never come to pass. The Cold War would continue for as long as the Soviets existed, hopefully. The planet needed the internet, computers, medicine, and other technological developments that would come from it._

 _Heck, they would advance far further than the original timeline if he talked to Stark. Maybe he could get him to work with Pym even. They could reach out to Wakanda in a few years, combine their ideas. They could greatly advance Civil Rights, worker's rights, and LGBT rights. They could create a united Earth not unlike_ Star Trek _._

 _He might be able to save Pym's wife. He could save Howard Stark and his wife. Coulson. Everyone._

 _SHIELD would never become Hydra. Ultron would never come to be. New York wouldn't happen._

 _And it didn't matter how long it took. He had all the time in the world to fix everything, all the time in the-_

The stone snapped back into its slot. Thanos threw Captain America back, and he smacked into a number of tree roots.

Rogers coughed, the wind knocked out of him, trying to process what was going on.

21st century. Wakanda.

Disavowed. The U-2 had launched. World War III had nearly broken out several times. The Middle East a mess. Sokovia. Washington. New York.

Peggy was dead. Howard Stark was dead. Doctor Erskine was dead. The Howling Commandos were dead. Most of them at least.

Everything he wanted, the one chance to do everything over again...and it was gone. It had tempted him, had shown him a possible world, a better future, and taken it away.

And now the current world was about to vanish as well.

Rogers knew now more than ever why they had to stop Thanos and destroy the gauntlet.

The infinity stones were worse than sirens. They would taunt you, mock you with your greatest desires...and so help you, they might actually give you what you want.

What right did he have to control the entire world?

What right did he have to guide the planet according to _his_ whims? What right did anyone have to be the sole designer of a world?

 _No one deserves that kind of power. Not even a good little man from Brooklyn._

The stones were everything he'd fought against. A power that could control the world.

Control was what he'd fought since his first back alley fist fight.

The bullies seeking to control the playground because they thought they were the best.

The gangsters seeking to control the city according to their whims.

The Nazis seeking to control the world because they thought they knew what was best, that it was their right to rule the world and purify it of degenerates.

Just like Thanos.

The stones were not salvation.

The infinity stones were a trap.


End file.
